The Hardest Game
by Catcheroftheye
Summary: A new family is arriving in the horror house, catching this auction blindly and entering it with more problems than its worth. WARNING MENTIONS OF SEXUAL CONTENT/LANGUAGE IN CHAPTER THREE AND ON.
1. Chapter 1

The Hardest Game

_Vile, vermin, dirty, useless creatures eating away the oxygen that's left on the Earth's troposphere. _I press my face against the glass to peer out at the passing 'playground'. _A place for kid and their needy kidnappers. _I close my eyes to block out the painful recollections that try and surface. I feel Michael shift next to me.

The soft tapping of his buttons game boy are enough to drown out the low volume thrumming from the speaker beside me. My brother is old fashioned. Playing game boy, reading comics, playing guitar, ignoring the agenda of society. That's why I look to him as a role model rather than my volatile parents, who currently aren't speaking in the front seats.

They are looking straight out the window, even with my eyes closed I know because they have been that way for the two hours I have endeared in out family car. I wanted to drive myself, even look at a few colleges on my way over, but my mother insisted it would be bonding time. _Some bonding time. The silence is really helping the situation. _

Earlier I had an outburst. The topic was normal, I didn't like how they were treating my brother as parents. He is sensitive, sweet, he cares too much about my family to ever do anything bad. It was apparent why he didn't have friends as a young teenager. He didn't share the same teen angst as his peers. He was more involved with charity and the world around him to worry about 'when he was getting laid' or 'how many hits he could get for a buck'.

I felt my self drifting. One coherent thought to the next, as my parents sighed and cleared their throats over and over again. I pictured my older brother and I on our way to Quebec, enjoying the silence we longed for. _Not the awkward silence I was enduring currently._ Well, not technically silence since we normally pop in a Nirvana CD. _Only the sour sounds or Kurt Cobain singing Lithium straight to my heart._

I start to look forward to my new beginning_. A new school, a new reputation, a new room to decorate to my teen angst desires_. Down side? Leaving my best friend Arthur behind. _He promised to visit as soon as I found where the movie_ _theatre was located. _

The tapping stopped. Eyes impulsively opened. My head swung to look at my curly haired brother. He was unbuckling his seat belt. "We're here." I heard my mother whisper as if by saying so she was going to burst into annoying, menopausal tears.

I elongated my vision to the sight of the generous yard to the right of me. It was luscious and vivid. I almost didn't want to disturb it. Picturing myself lying on the grass with a novel and homemade vegan brownies made me smile for the hope distilled in this house. In this house, maybe I could find contentment. My father opened my car door giving me a heated look.

_The anger I feared._ _16, and still scared of daddy. Hell, 19 and still scared of daddy, as_ Michael told our therapist.

As I braced myself for the image of the castle I saw in pictures, I had a thought. _Could things really be different like he promised here?_

Suddenly all my hope grew as I viewed my castle for the first time in person. There were so many windows, so many bricks. I started to count them, realizing it was useless. I smiled, profusely. My parents beckoned me from the doorway as I trailed behind Michael who was now snapping photos left and right of our entry way. He entered the house as I stopped to admire the yard once more.

It filled me. I started to violently cough. The smell of nicotine , filled my airways and suffocated me. I shut my eyes to block out the pain I was feeling when a set of arms guided me to safety, away from the puff of smoke. I kept my eyes shut but leaned into who I guessed was Michael. Focusing on my breathing the arms remained tight until we stopped walking. I was puzzled when I opened my eyes to see a pair of pale hands wrapped around my waist. Arms covered in a striped sweater. Not my brothers.

"Violet, could you put that out? Can't you see its hurting her!" A voice close to my ear yelled. Sudden fear of memories flooded my brain , so I spun around. My eyes must have been wide, because the white hands were up in the air as a defense. "I mean no harm."

I examined him. "Are you alright? Do I need to ask for your inhaler or something?" He said letting his arms drop,

Nice shoulders, taller than me, _that's a nice change_, black eyes, almost a button nose, shaggy hair that cute and twisted every which way. His appearance was innocent yet, dark at the same time. He looked washed out. In a very feminine voice he said "Where are my manners, here is a picture, it will last you longer." Smirking he mimicked reaching into his pocket and pulling out a picture. Hand still closed around the imaginary photo, he opened it into a handshake. "Hi, I'm Tate." I was still absorbing his image when I skeptically said reaching to shake his hand "..and I'm Annabelle."

My smile captivated him long enough for me to analyze my situation. I had thirty seconds before my father came outside with his belt in hand, but I had so many questions for Tate. Who is he? Where did he come from? Who was smoking? Does he live around here?

But as I predicted, my father approached me red as his shirt. "ANNABELLE GET INSIDE, NOW!" He screeched.

Tate looked mad as he dropped my hand, hearing my fathers word, I apologized under my breathe and said good-bye. Passing my father, I braced myself for a smack to the face but instead endeavored a low and hateful 'slut' whispered under his breathe.

I prayed that Tate wouldn't call DCF on my dad or that he wouldn't cast me as a freak as I made my way through the door.

My father followed close behind slamming the door behind him.

Tiffany fixtures, real stained glass, wood flooring and a grand staircase. "Welcome to your new home." Someone called from upstairs. I stood, dumbly as I wait till my father left the entry way.

I ascended up the staircase, letting the touch of the wood overwhelm me. Feeling harmless as I did in the car, I wandered the white halls looking out a bay transom, peering into package filled rooms, looking for mine.


	2. Chapter 2

The Hardest Game

Chapter 2

_This room has to be mine. All the boxes are labeled 'AB BRD'. Its so vast, why am I getting what seems to be the master bedroom? _My black cherry wood bed frame was shoved imprecisely in an arch that panned out to over look the yard. The room was white, _which_ will_ have to change_, with a mantle and a fireplace. The boxes were pressed up against the walls and my pillows were stacked on my bed. Not a great deal of my furniture had arrived yet, I was looking for my DJ table and vanity desk, when I spotted an added door.

I opened it to view my new closet, _some what diminutive_, but it will do. I noticed scones in-between the door and the closet. Two, I guess lining where the bed would go. _My desk can go here._

"Is there something I can get you?" A crackly voice said to the right of me. I jumped a little, but recalled that my mother told me we were getting a maid.

The woman was in her 60's, at least, with red hair and baggy skin. Her left eye was glossy over, but I sensed a pleasure of power in it. She smiled a grandmotherly smile to me, I gave a introverted smile. "I am Moira, your maid and house servant. I cook and clean and do most of what is need to be done. You have to be Annabelle." She turned and pulled out a cloth from her pocket, she wore a customary maid uniform, and started dusting the mantle.

I started coughing again, due to the dust in the air. She stopped dusting and twisted to me "If you don't mind me asking, do you have allergies?". Concern covered her face as she put her rag away. She lightly patted my back as I regained my breathing. "Yes, I do. So if you don't mind Moira, could you please clean when I am not in my room?" She stopped patting my back and left the room saying "Of course."

As she left, I stood erect and directed myself to my bookshelf. _I wonder what Tate likes to read, or if he even likes to read. _I started to unpack my books. Getting into the rhythm and started to drift again. My mind went to sea with my imagination.

The still house was on track to be filled with sounds of moving boxes, soft classical music coming from my speaker, and the hum of a vacuum. I gracefully danced to the noises moving boxes and unpacking clothes into my closet. Hanger by hanger I started to loose interest in unpacking. My stomach had other plans. I shut my door and padded down the stairs to find the kitchen.

Past my fathers new office, and the dinning room I found the Kitchen. My brother and Moira were sitting at the table, not speaking but intently looking over an array of vegetables. Moira stood upon my entrance. "Is there something I could make you Annabelle? I have freshly made walnut cookies if you would like any." She said gesturing to the plate on the table. Michael was by now eating one.

"No thank you Moira, I am a vegan." She smiled again. "I know of a great vegan recipe for cookies. Shall I make them?" She asked. "That would be great." I smiled to Michael and told them I was going to go outside, to the front yard.

_Overlook exploring my castle, I want to cloud watch. Also, I want to look for that boy Tate…_

I made my way to the front door. When I stepped outside I smelled no smoke, only fresh linens and grass_. I may be 16, but I am simple. Teen angst sure, but simple. My goals are simple. My life is simple. Family, friends, grades and sailing. And poetry. _I laid down on a soft spot of grass and looked to the sky. It was later in the afternoon so the clouds lazily roll over head. One was shaped like a crayon, another like a heart. Sooner than expected, Tate loomed over me. "Howdy." He said his hair falling pale with his face.

"Hi." I said covering my eyes to see him. He smiled. "Mind if I join you? Or will daddy get angry?" His joke made a logical point. _Would father be livid if he saw me laying with some strange boy? _When I didn't answer, he took it as a no and started to walk away. I rolled over onto my stomach and said "It's a free country." _Semi-jerkish, but yah know._

"I'm sorry about getting you in trouble with your dad." He said plopping down next to me. He didn't lay, he just sat. I angled myself towards him, resting my face on my elbows. I sighed, "No, it wasn't your fault. He is just like that. He is over-protective." _But not when it comes to him causing me harm. _"Plus, he had called me into the house a few minutes before and I was lagging behind –" I noticed I was rambling so I stopped talking. Tate was starring at me.

Suddenly I felt a slight shove on my shoulders which caused me to fall forward face first into Tate's lap. I stood up embarrassed but instead of speaking Tate cut me off "Violet, GO AWAY." I turned around to see who he was talking to. He stood up too "You know you shouldn't be so self-conscious. I was listening to you speak a second ago and you stopped why?" He put his hands in his pockets. I did the same. "I tend to ramble a lot around people I know. Sometimes saying things I shouldn't." I shrugged. His eyes sparkled at me with sincere clarity at my words "I get that, I used to too."

I started towards the door noting the now setting sun. "Would you like to come inside Tate?" I asked politely rotating towards him. He grinned at me and replied "Sure would."


	3. Chapter 3

The Hardest Game

Chapter 3

_He is inside my new home, this easily. Making friends has never been this easy for me. _I smiled to Tate once I shut and locked the door. He gave me a devilish grin.

"This is my new home. I haven't explored it much, so giving you a tour would be kind of useless. Would you like something to eat?" I was nervous, that was apparent. The way his stare rested on my face, listening to every word that escaped my lips, it made me self-conscious. Suddenly he was mad again. "Stop being so self-conscious." He said gently after a moment.

"Right," I whispered shifting my weight. I let my hand rest on the end of the railing. He walked the few steps to close the space in-between us. His jeans made that 'swishing' sound as he walked. He is actually very attractive. His smile still in place, "Now what was this you said about food?"

As if we yelled for her, Moira appeared with a plate of cookies. Her gaze was on me, not acknowledging Tate. "Here are you cookies Annabelle." I smiled and thanked her looking at Tate. His body was tense, he was staring at Moira. She left without a pause after handing me the cookies. _Okay…_

"So what can we do around here?" Tate said snatching a cookie, taking a bite, then spitting it back into his hand again. "Gross, what is this?" I laughed and started up the stairs "They're vegan cookies. We can –or I can finish these and then we could explore the house together, that is if you're up for it."

His stare turned blank, then back to devilish. "Sounds like fun."

The moment we stepped into my room, Tate immediately went to my bookshelf and started through the titles. I placed the cookies on my bed, taking one as I did and joined at his side. "Poe, Radbury, Mary Shelley, Rice, Nelson, Shakespeare…" He pulled down my beat up copy of Shakespeare's _King Lear_. I remember when I first received the book.

"_Oh, Daddy! I LOVE IT!" Eight year old Annabelle yelled throwing her arms around her father. He patted her on the back and took the book from her tiny hands "You can have as many as you want, as long as you promise to keep theatre as a hobby, not a profession." She grinned at the thought of unlimited books. The contract never seemed to threaten to her… at the time. _

_The next night, Annabelle's father came home drunk from a New Years Eve party. Annabelle and Michael were the only ones home. Their mother was out of town visiting with her sister in New York. What happened that night, was frightening, horrid and detrimental. _

"_WHERE ARE YOU ANNABELLE?" Her father called. Michael was watching television and replied "She is in her room, sleeping."_

_Little Annabelle was in her bed fast asleep, dreaming about books when her father burst into her room. Luckily, she woke up. "Daddy?" She said rubbing her eyes. "Oh, hey. Didn't mean to wake you. Why don't you –you lie back down and Daddy will crawl into bed along side with you." Annabelle nodded into her pillow as her father laid down next to her. Suddenly he grabbed her tiny hips from underneath the sheets. "Now, if you stay quiet, Daddy will take you to get a new book tomorrow." He whispered. His beer drenched breathe haggard on her ear and fell on her neck. Annabelle felt uncomfortable, but she shrugged it off. He started to drag his hand up her night gown. One hand there the other on the belt of his jeans. He started to feel her. Annabelle wanted to tell him to stop, but she didn't want daddy to be angry. So she closed her eyes real tight and thought to herself "I'm okay.. I'm okay…" Over and over again. He started to moan, and unbuckled his jeans…_

"Hey, why are you crying?_"_ Tate asked wiping my cheek. Concern flooded his face and he grabbed me in a hug when I didn't answer. My chest tightened. Panic engulfed me. _Arms. Touch. Light. Darkness._ Tate murmured soft kind words into her ear as she slightly sobbed into his shoulder. Here I am. _Crying like a child, into a cute boys arms who probably thinks I am crazy, who I barely know. Why am I SO STUPID!_ Now angry tears ran down my cheeks and I curled my hands into fists wanting to punch my father in the face. _I was just a little girl. Defenseless against him. He abused me, the sexually abused me. Why did he do it? Is there something wrong with him? _

Tate pulled my hair from the space in-between us. "Annabelle. Tell me what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did I do something?" He pulled back, arms still around mine. His touch made me feel warm. "Do you want me to leave? Are you on your period or something?" His last question made me slightly laugh. I wiped my tears, looking at the ground and looked to him. His face remained the same, kind and concerned. "Yeah, sorry. I was having a nostalgic moment. I just- " I thought of a quick lie. "My best friend gave me that book, and I miss him a great deal." I breathed in and out. Tate smiled at me then laughed "Woo! Okay, good. Well, not good, sorry about your friend, but for a minute there I thought you had been raped!"


	4. Chapter 4

The Hardest Game

Chapter 4

_A day later, Tate and I were in my room. He had helped me unpack most of my things and we bonded for the most part. He met my brother Michael. He likes Michael. Tate then left to go home._

He hugged me as we sat on top of the roof. I felt comfortable with him. I never made friends easy, but with Tate it just was. The way he felt, his body molded to mine, was ecstatic. He told me of his sister, she had Down syndrome. He told me of his brother, he has respitory problems. He told me he wants me to meet them some day. I said I would like that. I shivered slightly, from the adrenaline that pulsed through me as we naturally grabbed each others hands. He blushed, as I did. But he smiled.

Oh my… I like this boy. Its no surprise, the first guy I make friends with on my own, I should have an attraction to, right?

I got butterflies looking into his eyes, so dramatic. So compelling. So real. "What are you thinking about?" I whispered as he turned his head towards the stars.

"We could like each other you know. I can tell, you have been hurt before. By who, I don't know, but I will protect you. I will be here for you if you need me. I hope you feel the same. You should be happy. Like how you are when you first saw your castle we sit on. We could like each other if it made us happy. I don't know why, but I have like a 6th sense for these things. You were unhappy before you came here, even if you can't realize it, this place won't make you happy. You will make it happy. In return you wil be happy. I could make you happy. I could give you everything. If I am moving too fast, tell me, because if you want me to go away, leave you alone, just say it." We then proceeded to sit in silence.

I liked his way of thinking.

-Next day-

_Rape, no, that's not what happened… it was more… _I slapped on a smile for Tate and asked him if he was ready to go exploring. "Sure. Whatever you want. Hey, why don't we play a little game?" He said smiling slightly. "Okay what game?" I said. "Its like a treasure hunt, ."He paused while speaking and looked at me "We would be looking for shit from the old family. Like up in the attic, or down in the basement…" He closed the space in-between us trailing his fingers up towards my face. His touch was electric and his eyes were glistening. I thought he was about to kiss when he parted his lips, ever so slightly. _No, I don't know you_. His head shot up. "Violet?" He was looking out to my doorway. I spin around to see who he was talking to, almost loosing my footing.

A lass, about fourteen or so, stood in my entrance arms crossed. She had auburn eyes, and a pale complexion, more pastel than Tate's, but more or less the same. Her blonde straight hair curled at the ends, inward towards her face. She wore, rather swam in a blue shirt tucked into a paisley maxi skirt. She looked annoyed and I imaged her as Tate's sister. Rather _hoped. _

She stepped into the room breaking her glare with Tate, and started to gaze at my bookshelf. I was getting angry that no one was telling me who she was or why she was here, "Who are you? How did you get in my house." I demanded. Tate put a hand on me. She held a hand out "I'm Violet, like Tate said. I'm his ex-girlfriend. I used to live here." _One question answered._ Tate let go and pulled her aside from me, whispering to her "What are you doing here? First the yard, now actually speaking to her?" He glanced at me, I crossed my arm.

_Two people, I don't know, in my new room, whispering, one lived here,_ "Whats going on?" I said irritated. They emerged from there secret circle. "Nothing, Violet was just leaving." He said putting space in-between Violet and I. "I think you should leave." I said to Tate. "yeah Violet leave." He retorted. She rolled her eyes. "You should really lock your front door. Someone could break in and kill you yah know. Or even worse, steal all your food, FATTIE." I snorted. She did not just front on my territory. She did not just call me fat. Am I fat?

_One cold November morning 14 year old Annabelle looked out her window. It was snowing; her favorite thing besides sailing and violins, but even that couldn't make her happy. She looked to the mirror. Atop her bed she stood, looking down to her mirror, staring at her body. Tracing the outline, mentally comparing herself to other girls her age. She was taller, had bigger thighs then most girls her age, She wasn't fat, just not model material. She wore a size 11 at the time and she thought that was too big. _

_Tears fell down her face as she raced to the bathroom. 'One problem after another,' she said. 'But this one I can fix.' She heaved up everything by pressing her finger to the back of her throat. THIS HURTS. She thought. She kept going. Finished, she flushed the toilet and looked in the mirror. Her face was red and puffy, and the thought of fat was slowly becoming a thing of the past. Soon she would have the body she wanted, the one everyone else had. She just had to keep it a secret, tucked away in the vaults of her lies, she hid it. _

This bitch needs to learn. Anger pulsed through me as I forgot all common sense. Tate was telling Violet to leave when I broke out into full on yelling. I am not fat, I am not fat,

I am not fat, I am not fat. I AM NOT FAT. "I AM not fat. I'm surprised you can even stand on those toothpicks you consider legs! Listen here, VIOLET. I don't know why you came in here but: Get the HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Violet stayed where she stood. Tate looked at me bewildered then almost happy, happy that I just yelled at his ex-girlfriend. "Where's the self-conscious girl I met this morning?" Violet rolled her eyes and excavated my room. Before Tate could come closer to me again, I pulled him to my bed. He gave me a crazed look "I normally make you buy me dinner before we-" I smacked his arm. I sat down and said "Where did you come from." I was expecting down the street, but instead I got a worried look. "You figured it out that quickly?" He sat down next to me, taking my hand in his. _This boy is moving WAAAY to fast for me. _I paused, "I'm sorry?" He then started to tell something, crazy and unbelievable.

"I feel I can trust you, and you should trust me too. My name is Tate Langdon. Sound familiar?" I shook my head.

"I used to live here. With my mother and two siblings, Addie and Beau." I waited for him to go on. Finally some answers. He stood up and moved around my bed uncomfortable. He stood at the end of my bed and rested his hand on my bedframe.

"They are both dead." My mouth dropped open. The question of how seems to personal to ask.

"Before my sister died, I killed some people at my school. I also set my mom's boyfriend on fire. It's a filthy world we live in. It's a filthy goddamn helpless world, and honestly… I felt like I am helping to take them away from the shit and the piss and the vomit that run in the streets. I am helping to take them somewhere clean and kind. It was genocide, and at an unprecedented level. I know it was wrong. So wrong beyond wrong, and I have paid for what I did."

_What._

_What? _

_WHAT?_

My hands started to shake. _He is crazy. He killed people? Are you serious?_ "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?" he rushed to me and put his hand on my mouth, I tried to pull him off and as I tried he said "I'm dead. I died here right in this house! That girl you just met, Violet? She died here too. Lots of people died here. This is murder house. You need to go, escape while you can." He became gentle with me as I struggled. I fought him as hard as I could. He won though. He held my wrists with one hand, and covered my mouth with the other. He pulled me into a hug. I wanted out. As soon as he let go of my mouth after I bit him I started to yell. "BULLSHIT! YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZ- !" He cut me off by kissing me. I struggled against him. His lips were urgent, needy, yet soft and enjoyable at the same time.

I finally fell. I started falling, head over heels, for this boy. One kiss, three days, and I am in love. Literature, movies, people, songs, artists, feelings. We talked so much yesterday. In the yard, in my room, on the roof. He showed me how to get up, I thought it was strange since I didn't even know we had a terrace. But he showed me. Without realizing it, I fell in love. I knew it from the moment he touched me. The moment he held me in a hug to calm me. Crazy, or not, I wanted him. But the lying needs to stop if he actually wants to be with me. Making up crazy shit like this won't fly with me. I feel so wrong, human and flawed, liking him the way I do. Loving him rather. I feel in love, and didn't realize it.

But he needs to stop. I need time to rationalize. My first kiss, with a boy who is a physco path.

When he broke from the kiss I immediately started yelling at him and hitting him harder. "WHAT THE HELL TATE! GET HELP!" I threw my pillows at him. He was lucky my family was out rug shopping.

"ANNABELLE STOP!" He yelled backing towards my door.

"GET OUT! GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GET OUT! GO AWAY TATE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my asthma started to get me.

My lungs closed, the last thing I saw was an empty doorway. All I could hear was my heavy breathing and the thump of my head hitting the floor. Followed by pain to add to my asthma attack.


	5. Chapter 5

**This is in Tate's point of view requested by Jen. THANKS~! Reviews are greatly appreciated.**

The Hardest Game

Chapter 5

_Normally, when someone yells go away, you end up in the place you died. For me, it is my old room. Which is now Michaels room._

I was pacing the floor. Nora and Charles were standing by Michaels bed in my old room, worried about me obviously since they never stray this far from the basement. I wrung my hands over and over again. "She thinks I'm lying. Why am I so stupid!" Nora answered my rhetoric question, "You aren't stupid sweetie. You want to believe she believes. The odds are that that isn't the case. Give her space. Don't scare her." She came forward in the path of my pacing and held a hand out. I took it in mine and she led me to the mirror. Our reflections were quiet similar, blonde hair, dark eyes, lean, tiny shoulders. "Be the man you want to see in the mirror." She whispered. She was gone from sight the next second.

I stared at the mirror. A picture of Annabelle and her brother was taped to the top of it. Annabelle's brunette hair was pulled to the side in a hair tie below her ears in a braid and her green orbs were lined with silver stuff. She wore a white shirt and a blue skirt that stopped right above her knees where the photo cut off. She was on a boat looking past the camera. _She looks beautiful. _I tore the photo down and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Stealing again?" Hayden said behind me into the mirror. I stared at her reflection. Her short stature was intimidating to me.

"What do you want Hayden." I retorted walking towards the door. She followed me out and down the hall to Annabelles room. I stopped short of the entry way.

"I want you," She paused turning my body to her.

"No." I said shaking off her hands that lingered on my biceps. "Why not?" She said angrily. Longing to say I belonged to someone I retorted again with "What do you want Hayden? Sex?" She scoffed at me. I shrugged. _This is going no where. _I opened the door to Annabelle's room making sure to conceal myself from her.

"Don't walk away from me prick!" Hayden called. I was frozen in my place with my hand on the handle. Annabelle was face first on the floor, passed out. "ANNABELLE?" I cried moving towards her.

"She gets this room? Fucking brat." Hayden was merely a background noise before, but referring to Annabelle in such a way made me want to punch her in the face. I ignored her for the moment and tended to Annabelles still body. "Man up," I heard her say.

Gingerly, I picked her up putting support under her neck and knees, I placed her on her made bed. She was breathing. I calmly covered her up with the blanket lying at the end of her bed. _She's okay. _

I stood there watching her sleeping body. The rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair fell on her pillow, how shut her eyelids were, she looked peaceful. Sweet. Innocent. _She is. She is so together, well made, hand-crafted by that vile father of hers. I wonder if her mother is the same way._

A pair of hands grabbed at my crotch. It was Hayden. Reaching around me, I turned in one swift motion grabbing both her arms. She grinned "Kinky shit. I dig,"

"It's the vile creatures like you, the whores, the scum-bag rapists that I wished I had killed during my days of living."

"But you were one of those people Tate. You ARE one of those people." Hayden said struggling within my hands. _Am I? No. I have changed. I let the ones I love go. I confessed. I watched who was the love of my existence go on without me. I watched her almost fall in love again. I am watching her hate my new interest. My new hobby. Annabelle. Annabelle will change me._

"Go away Hayden." I said shutting my eyes.

And she did.

-3-

I waited impatiently for Annabelle to awaken. _I am getting very bored._ I thought moving to her bookshelf. There, underneath a copy of 'Dracula' was a tattered notebook. I slid it out from underneath and took my seat at Annabelle's desk.

I flipped through the pages reading a few clips here and there and looking at her doodles that scrolled the margins of the pages. One stuck out, I stopped flipping and landed on page 67.

_**Entry 23**_

_January 6, 2011_

_He did it again, tonight after he got his, he beat me. It was no different from when I was younger, except now, he makes me watch. He takes the sides of his penis and strokes in slow at first, then faster. He told me if I watched it would make me a good wife one day. After he was done he called me a slut and untied me. I spent most of the night hiding in the bathroom from drunk dad, vomiting and reading in the bathtub. I made a make-shift bed there…_

Anger filled me. I looked back at the other entries. A handful more was like that. I clenched the notebook in my hand.

He raped his daughter. He beat her afterwards. What a sick FUCK. This bastard needs to learn a lesson.

The many tourture devices and death traps ran through my mind.

He sleeps in the same house as her, she can never escape him.

NEVER.

"This won't do." I said looking at sleeping Annabelle.

_Once this guy gets home, he'll get his._

And it won't be pretty.

Then a thought occurred to me. "If he dies here, and she is still here, she can't escape him."

Loop hole, loop hole, loop hole!

"I will kill him on Halloween. I will go to the beach. Kill him. But until then – " I looked at Annabelle.

"I have to gain her trust back and protect her."


	6. Chapter 6

| still tates pov |

The Hardest Game

Chapter 5

I was always a man of many words. But at this moment, when Annabelle awoke, I had only a few.

Her eyes graced open, but all I could see was the hurt and pain behind them. She rubbed her head, pulling her bangs behind her ear in the process. Her eyes wandered the room as I let my self visible to her. Her gaze landed on me sitting at her desk, staring at her. Her eyes widened. She threw back her covers, and raced towards me. I sat still as she threw hard punches at me. I blocked a few, but my intentions were for her to hit me. _Let her be angry._

When she started to cry, out of frustration, I pulled on the broken girls arm. She cooperated with me. Her skin was so soft to the touch; it made me almost want to fuck her. _But not until I fix her. _She cradled into my chest as best as she could and cried softly. I patted her hair not saying a thing. "Are you really dead?" She finally asked. I nodded hearing the words. They stung. "I was in the papers and everything." She whimpered a smidge, but I muffled it with my words.

"I will never hurt you Annabelle. Even now, I don't really know you, but I want to. And I will. You and I could be something great. We could be in love. I could show you things, teach you things, and you I. I could get rid of your awful father." I tensed. So did she. She sniffled then looked up at me with green irises. "Wh-what?" She stuttered. "I know what he did to you. I know what you did." I said soothingly.

A single tear cascaded down her face and I caught it with my right hand. "How?" She asked. I smiled "I have my ways." Her smile was sad, I felt sorry for her. She was raised by a sick man, one she can never escape, _well without my help that is._

"I'm sorry about me freaking out. Please don't call the police." She whimpered into my shirt and pulled back "Why would I call the police?" She looked up at me, her breathing returning to normal, then hitching again as she said " Because of what he has done." I paused, _but that would mean you would be more stressed so why would I do that? Why wouldn't I just kill him and end it all for you?_

She just stared at me, waiting for my answer. "Please don't…" She whispered.

"He has to pay for what he did. You are innocent, but still don't worry. I don't plan to call the cops." She silently agreed as she nodded into my chest. "Would you like to go up on the roof?" I whispered into her ear. "We could throw water balloons at people passing by, and I could tell you more about the real thought process of music." Her smile grew three times as wide. She liked the idea. _Damn your cute. Now… about your father…_

After Annabelle said good-night, and I "left", I went to the attic with a notebook and a pencil.

_I plan on taking her father somewhere like the beach to kill him. The question is how…_

"Michael told me how his mother throws a big Halloween adult party every year. There is normally drinking, you could put a sedative in him." Violet said appearing from the shadows. She peered over my shoulder at my notes and plans. "What do you want." I gave her an icy stare, I'm sure she should remember. "I want to help." She said grabbing my notes from my hand. "HEY!" I yelled she glared at me as I stood up. "I want to help." She repeated. The girl I once loved stood before me, making me angry, without my own doing. The girl I said I would wait forever for is now one I want to leave always.

"Why." I said snatching the papers back. So far, I had only written down that once I get to the beach I would shot him, making it look like suicide. I had scribbled out what I was going to say to him, and to Annabelle too.

"Because, I like Michael." She said haughtily. She crossed her arms. "Now, let me help," taking the papers she read aloud one of my apologies to Annabelle.

"Annabelle, I am sorry about your father. Maybe the weight finally came down on him. Maybe he finally looked in the mirror and realized who he was, a sick bastard and a fuck of a father. But Annabelle, its okay. Don't be scared, and don't cry. I will protect you. Always. I will be here for you, forever. What ever you need, I will be." She dropped her arms and gave me a pissed look.

"Your going to tell her this BULLSHIT?" Her eyes squinted with rage. I became angrier at her thoughtless words. "Listen, little girl, I CARE about Annabelle. Care about her enough to make this promise. And mean it." The words stung the roof of my mouth.

"Oh, FUCK YOU Tate! You said the exact same thing to me when we were together. And we both know that was BULLSHIT." She screeched.

"I MEANT IT! YOU NEVER GAVE ME THE CHANCE!" I yelled into her face stepping closer to her.

"YOU MEANT NOTHING! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME TATE! YOU RAPED MY MOTHER!" Her fists balled up simultaneously with mine.

"OF ALL THE FUCKED UP THINGS I'VE DONE! YOU WON'T LET IT GO! I APOLOGIZED! I REPENT! I WATCHED YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH ANOTHER BOY! I WATCHED YOU BLEED, VIOLET. YOU TOOK YOUR LIFE FROM ME!"

The truth came out.

"YEAH WELL I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!"

We were both crying angry, violent tears.


End file.
